


Good Morning Indeed

by flabbergabst



Series: Captain Canary After Dark [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 12:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19791274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flabbergabst/pseuds/flabbergabst
Summary: Waking up is the best this way.





	Good Morning Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while. There are a couple of smuts that have been inside a box for a long, long, long time.

Sara comes to like she always does: bit by bit, in stages, with a yawn and then a stretch, followed by the gradual returning of her senses.

First is touch. She moves her fingers, wiggles her toes, feeling familiar zillion thread-count sheets beneath her and the comforter layered over her body, as she lingers in that grey area just between sleep and consciousness. Then comes hearing: the sounds of birds chirping outside, followed by the rustling of the blinds as a gentle spring breeze blows through. Afterwards comes taste – bits of wine on her tongue from last night, mixing with her toothpaste and saliva to form a stale morning __ick__. Fourth is smell. She catches a whiff of the fresh air, then buries her face into the pillow, finding herself confronted by an intoxicating mixture of musky, piney cologne, sweat, and sex there. She hums sleepily at the scent, the perfect Saturday morning perfume, and eases her eyelids open.

Then, at last, comes sight.

Golden rays of sunlight filter in through the blinds, casting lines across the sheets, making them glow. Said sheets are rumpled from last night, and halfway tossed off the bed. The room around her is peaceful and still, illuminated in a similar manner by the late morning sun. On the nightstand, the alarm clock spells out __9:35 AM__ in glowing red letters.

Finally, she glances over at the other side of the bed, and finds Leonard there, lying on his stomach with his back facing her.

Content, Sara sits up and brushes her messy hair out of her eyes, reaching over to trace a finger across the maze of scars on his back. It makes him twitch in his sleep, and she chuckles lowly, continuing on, then placing the tip of her fingernail on his skin and guiding it across so that it makes a faint scraping noise. At that the sleeping man grunts, and shifts; he’s always been a light sleeper, jumping awake at the slightest provocation, and she knows she won’t need to do much to wake him.

Predictably, this morning, she doesn’t have to either. Hardly a minute later, Len makes a low, garbled sound, pauses for a moment, then rolls over to face her, still only half-awake. His blue eyes taking in the sight of her with so much tenderness that it makes her downright giddy to be the first thing he sees in the morning.

“Good morning, crook,” she sing-songs, and lets him curl an arm around her.

“Morning,” he mutters, his voice raspy and sexy with sleep. “I ever tell you how much I love waking up next to you?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice before,” Sara teases. “But you can always tell me again.”

“So much.” Sara gives him a look, and he smirks. “What? Can’t exactly expect me to be a poet this early in the morning.”

“Really? No five page sonnets about… the way my hair looks in the sunlight after a long night’s sleep?” she laughs. “Or an ode to my toxic morning breath?”

“I love your morning breath.” Sara makes a sound of disbelief, and he moves closer, maneuvering himself so that he’s half on top of her. “Lemme prove it.”

He steals a kiss before Sara can protest, long and deep enough to get a taste of her. She laughs against his mouth, and he pulls back with a grin. “See? I’d kiss you any hour of the day.”

Snart shifts on top of her right then, and when he does she feels something unmistakably hard brush her thigh. Amused, Sara folds her hands behind her head and lies back against the pillow, taking in the sight of his not-at-all inconspicuous morning wood with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that a banana in your pocket,” she begins, teasingly, “or are you just… happy to see me?”

Unabashed, as they’ve been faced with this, well, __not so little__ problem countless times before, Leonard just glances down at his erection, acknowledging it casually, like an old friend making a reappearance, before raising his eyes back up to her.

He lowers his voice mock-seriously. “Well, Sara, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not wearing any pants.”

“Mmm,” she hums, then giggles, glancing over towards the bathroom. “Well, I should probably go shower.”

Catching onto her game, Leonard reaches out and tugs her back into his chest before she can even start to sit up. “So what? We’re just gonna ignore this problem?”

“I'm sorry. I didn’t realize your morning wood was __my__ problem.”

He chuckles, planting a trail of scratchy kisses along her collarbone. “Gonna make me beg, Assassin?”

All at once, in the blink of an eye, Sara has reversed their positions, straddling him and framing his hips with her legs. For a moment she pauses, taking in the sight of him from this new angle: his bare abdomen, glowing in the sunlight; his eyes, deep blue and sparkling; and his cock, standing at attention, ready for her. Biting her lower lip and narrowing her eyes, she reaches down to stroke it with one hand, massaging the bead of pre come at the tip down the shaft slowly, then drawing back and giving him a firm pump. The sudden jerk makes Leonard grunt, and she can see the muscles in his jaw quivering as he clenches it to keep from moaning aloud. It makes her press her thighs together, feel the dampness gathering between them.

“Maybe I should,” she breathes, swiveling her hips and brushing up against his erection again. “Make you beg.”

Without much warning – and surprisingly, without a witty comeback – Leonard just reaches up, places his hands on her hips, and guides her off of him, rolling her over onto her side so that he’s spooning her from behind, and scissoring their limbs together. It’s more comfortable, their preferred early-morning, sleepy sex position, and she laughs breathlessly when Leonard takes his hand to guides his cock against her folds, brushing her clit and forcing a fresh rush of desire between her legs, directly onto his tip. It sends a tremor through her, and she gasps, reaching back to run a hand through his hair, while he kisses idly at her neck and shoulder; nothing rough, never nipping or biting. Just wet, sloppy kisses that make her grin like a fool.

“This,” Leonard murmurs between kisses, his breath catching in his throat as her wetness drenches the head of his cock, “is without a doubt the __best__ way to start the day.”

“Yeah?” she pants, as her hips stutter towards his cock, trying to draw him in without giving away just how bad she’s aching for it. Her cunt throbs, burns, so wet that he would slide in with hardly any effort at all – if he would just __move__. “Speak for yourse – __ah__.”

Leonard slips inside her just then, one short, quick motion, and in doing so steals the words right off her tongue. He pulls out within seconds, however, making her walls quiver as they try to grasp what isn’t there, before entering her again and burying himself up to the hilt. His thrusts are slow, lazy. She likes it like this: tender and sweet, almost more than she likes it rough. He fills her so completely, in a way that makes her suddenly conscious of how __empty__ she feels when he isn’t inside her.

“You know what they say,” Leonard mumbles against her neck. He brushes her blonde hair out of the way, kissing the soft skin of her nape. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, gasping. “I think… that you’d say pretty much _ _anything__ to get laid.”

Leonard just makes a low sound as if to admit she is one hundred percent right about that, and moves his lips up behind her ear, right where she’s especially sensitive. The rhythm of his thrusts is steady, unhurried. With one hand he continues stroking her hair, and __God__ , there really isn’t anything she loves more than him doing that. Feeling the pressure build as he drives her closer, Sara reaches down between her legs, to massage her clit and feel where they’re joined, feel herself stretch in the most blissful way as he moves in and out.

Apparently not content to let her do much work this morning, Leonard gives a disapproving grunt, reaches down, and moves her hand away, replacing it with his own, rubbing her with the pads of his fingers. He knows how to touch her, how to play her body. Knows her like a map, and with his fingers on her in exactly the right way, she can’t help but cry out quietly; a high-pitched, fluttering little sound. Her hips rock against him instinctively, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her other hand grasps the pillow, holding it tight. She’s close, writhing against him, and although he doesn’t seem it, she knows Leonard is, too, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic as he chases his own pleasure inside her. 

“Len…” she murmurs, her voice half-muffled by the pillow. “I’m – __oh__ …”

“Don’t talk,” he says, gruffly. “Just come.”

Even though she’s close, Sara can’t help but laugh breathlessly at that oh-so-articulate command, and opens her mouth to speak, but the words die on her tongue when the pleasure finally tips her over the edge, out of nowhere. When she comes it isn’t blinding, or earth-shattering or white hot; it’s a gentle burn, the release making her limbs loose, relaxed. She gasps into the pillow, feeling herself tighten and flutter deliciously around him, as if to pull his cock in deeper and keep him there. Just like she’d thought he would, Leonard swears under his breath at the sensation – a throaty __Fuck,__ _ _Sara__ – before following suit, giving one last thrust before spilling hot inside her.

They don’t move, after. Leonard doesn’t even pull out; instead they stay like that, holding each other, still joined. It’s more intimate than even sex, in a way. It’s a comforting feeling, him still inside her, right where he belongs, and it brings a sleepy smile to her lips, which grows even wider when Leonard raises his face to hers and kisses her tenderly, like he wants to savor this moment as much as she does.

“Well,” she breathes after he pulls away. “Good morning to you, too.”

He nips at her ear playfully. “Just good?”

Sara rolls her eyes and turns to face him completely, letting him slip out of her. “Fine. __The best__.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He gives her another kiss and sits up, nodding towards the bathroom. “Shower?”

Sara nods without a word and stretches her arms again, watching as Leonard goes for the bathroom. For a few seconds she doesn’t move, just admires the view of his body from behind, scars and all, with a dumb, half-loopy smile on her face – because waking up next to him, this man, everyday… It’s something she never dreamt but is living right now. It used to scare her, because she can’t recall ever wanting that so much with someone before, but it doesn’t. Not now.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Leonard turns in the doorway. “You coming?”

“Oh, I better be,” she replies, and springs up out of bed after him, pouncing like a feline. “In more ways than one.”


End file.
